Secrets of Riddle Manor
by NexusNebulous
Summary: There was something...off about Hermione Granger... Dark!Hermione ,Voldy/Mione (Daddy/Daughter) ,Dumbledore Bashing
1. Prologue: Snape's Soliloquy

**So I was looking through old stuff, and realized "oh shit" Secrets of Riddle Manor was supposed to have a PROLOGUE! Oopsie. So I'm posting it now. If this is your first time reading, then I'm sure you don't care, but yeah. Also, chapter 2 is up too, so yay! Double post!**

**Prologue: Snape's Soliloquy**

There was something odd about the young Hermione Granger. The frizzy haired, muggleborn first year girl had studied her way into many a teacher's good graces, but Severus Snape remained suspicious.

Like any good spy would, he monitored the behaviors of all his students, and looked for anyone who might be a threat to other students or themselves. Thus far, this habit had trained his eyes on Harry Potter, who no doubt would attract trouble of the darkest kind; Draco Malfoy, who likely already had his father whispering in his ear at every opportunity; and Neville Longbottom, who was burning through cauldrons and ruining potions as if he were allergic to passing potions marks.

By that same method, he had set his eyes on Hermione Granger, new friend to savior of the Wizarding World.

The problem?

She was just too good.

Her marks were perfect, her work matchless. She practiced magic with a finesse that made all others look inferior. In fact, the only student to compete with her was Draco Malfoy, and he had been trained in the magical arts since the moment he could say "Accio" coherently.

It was hard to believe that she had simply picked up a wand a few months ago- that she was so naturally brilliant.

He wouldn't be concerned if she had belonged to a magical family, but every record plainly stated that she was the first witch in her family.

After months of tracing her history, he was forced to concede. There could be no denying that Hermione Jean Granger was a 12 year old muggleborn girl, with stellar intelligence and perfectly normal, muggle dentists for parents.

But he remained suspicious.


	2. Chapter 1: In Plain Sight

**Alright this one's been in the works longer than More than a Phase, for a point of reference. Something like two years. I really just wanted to try my hand at the whole "Voldemort's Daughter" thing. Is it bad I'm beginning to like Dark!Hermione better than the original?**

**Chapter 1: In Plain Sight**

"Tell me Draco, what do you think of the girl called Hermione Granger?"  
The boy looked incredulously, but answered dutifully mudblood?! I don't think of her. She's not worth my time," he said.  
The Dark Lord chuckled softly.  
"Well said, my boy, well said. But be honest. If she wasn't a mudblood what would you think of her? Hypothetically speaking of course."  
He looked thoughtful for a moment, then said,  
"She's a know it all. And she talks too much," he said easily, as if these the most obvious of her traits.  
"So she's intelligent."  
He shrugged.  
"To be honest, ridiculously so. It's a shame she's a muggle."  
Voldemort smirked.  
"How...interesting,"he mused, before pinning Draco with a piercing stare.  
"Now Draco, what if I were to tell you that Miss Granger was not a muggleborn?"  
Then I would say good for her, still, she's practically the posterchild of all Muggleborns. She the Golden Princess of the light side",  
"And if I told you that she was my agent?"  
"Then I would wonder if this were purely hypothetical."  
Well done Draco, " the snakelike man praised.  
"Hermia, you may come out now," he called.  
Footsteps echoed in the hall, but Draco could not see anyone approaching.  
Suddenly, a tap on his shoulder made him jerk around, his hand reaching for his wand instinctively. That same invisible person pinched his cheek and then tapped his nose.  
A female voice giggled at his confusion.  
"Stop teasing girl, and take off the cloak," Voldemort ordered, although to Draco's shock, he seemed more amused than angry.  
A pair of hands became visible, and pulled back the hood, revealing black curls and green eyes.  
He realized with shock that while the girl in front of him had jet black hair, and forest green eyes, she was very much the girl he'd known as Hermione Granger.  
"Hello, Draco", she said smoothly, a sultry smirk turning her lips upward.  
"G-granger?" He asked, shocked.  
She chuckled, and nodded.  
"Is it really so shocking? I guess I'm a better actress than I had thought," she teased.  
She let the rest of the invisibility cloak, and he realized that she was wearing a typical Death Eater's cloak, the mask hanging around her neck.  
"But you- you're the fucking Princess of Gryffindor! How-"  
She rolled her eyes.  
"I'm only in Gryffindor because I asked to be, if I could've been in Slytherin, I would've, believe me. I've had more intelligent conversations with Hufflepuffs than those damned Gryffindorks," she said cruelly, green eyes sparkling dangerously.  
"But how-"  
"What do you mean, how? I'm a spy, Malfoy. Lying is my job. I /pretended/ to be a sweet little Muggleborn Gryffindor so that Dumbledore wouldn't be suspicious when I got close to Potter. Is it that hard to understand? I thought you were supposed to be /smart/," she said sarcastically, placing her hands on her hips.  
He snarled at the insult, but stopped immediately when Voldemort cleared his throat impatiently.  
"Now now children, lets not fight. You'll have an eternity to argue later," he said smoothly, his red eyes daring them to continue their quarrel.  
"My apologies, my Lord," Draco said, at the same time that "Hermia" said  
"I'm sorry, Father."  
Draco gaped at her for a solid minute, before she broke into giggles, and he turned away frowning.  
"Silly boy, can't you see the family resemblance?" she teased, smiling playfully.  
'No, not at all," Draco thought, considering the girl's unruly hair and dark eyes to his Master's snakelike appearance and crimson eyes.  
Just as he decided against voicing this, the girl turned to him, smirking devilishly as her own eyes glowed red for a split second, before returning to normal.  
Riddle himself smirked, rolling his eyes at her antics.  
"Enough, Hermia," he said firmly, but not quite cruelly, before turning his attention back on Draco, who was turning a rather startling shade of purple.  
"Yes Draco, Hermia is in fact my biological daughter. She has acted as my agent in the Order since your first year at Hogwarts, and is very skilled at it," he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up slightly when Hermia brightened at his praise.  
"Draco, I understand that you have gained mastery of wandless spells, and your own intelligence and skills are a valuable asset to our cause."  
Hermia stuck out her tongue at him, rolling her eyes.  
Riddle's eyes narrowed, and Hermia put on a falsely apologetic face.  
"As I was /saying/," he continued,  
"I've decided for these reasons that the two of you will continue Hermia's mission...together," he announced, looking amused at Hermia's sour expression.  
Draco barely caught himself from protesting, before deciding that, oddly nice or not, he did /not/ wish to test the Dark Lord's patience.  
He chuckled.  
"Speak Draco, I know you have something to say about this," he allowed.  
"My Lord, what do you need me for?  
You already said that Hermia was perfectly capable for this task," he reasoned.  
The reptilian man nodded, his expression mildly amused.  
"Yes, I did say that, and I mean it. The girl has a natural talent for deception. But I still want the two of your to work cooperatively. Your objectives will be met that much faster working together than seperately, and I want you both to get used to working together; this won't be the last time I need the both of you," he explained, abeit somewhat vaguely.  
"Yes, my Lord," he aquiesced, bowing shallowly.  
The Dark Lord chuckled.  
"Hermia, you would do well to learn from the Young Mister Malfoy, /he/ at least, has some concept of manners," he said, before rising from his throne.  
"Hermia, you can finish briefing him on your assignment in your chambers. The both of you will be sent back to Hogwarts in the morning," he said, effectively dismissing them.  
"Goodnight Father," Hermia said, before turning on her heel and exiting, not even bothering to see if Draco was following.  
He jogged after, and fell into step beside her, watching her curiously, but saying nothing.  
They walked through endless hallways, and up several staircases, farther into the Riddle house than Draco had ever been before, not that he'd ever been keen on exploring the big house.  
Finally they reached a dark and shadowy corridor, largely empty except for two suits of armor standing at the wall, spears crossed in the space between them.  
Hermia walked right up to them and whispered something he couldn't make out to one.  
Immediately they stood attention, moving the weapons out of the way, so that she could touch the wall behind them.  
"Aurelie," she said gently, stepping backwards.  
The wall vanished, and she stepped through, but the moment he attempted to follow her, the wall reappeared, and the suits of armor moved back into place, pointing their weapons towards him menacingly.  
He made a shocked, strangled noise at the back of his throat and jumped back, alarmed.  
"Uh Granger?!" He called, watching the armor warily.  
"Let him in you morons!" Her voice called, muffled, from behind the wall.  
Almost reluctantly, the armor moved out of the way, and the wall reopened, revealing an exasperated Hermia behind, her hands on her hips.  
"What in Merlin's name-?"  
She rolled her eyes.  
"Father "forgot" to remove the wards. I'm not supposed to have boys in my rooms, or anyone really. How else do you think I've managed to be a secret for so long? Definitely not by hosting Death Eater slumber parties, that's for sure," she said dryly, sinking onto a black leather couch in what must've been the sitting room outside her bedroom.  
"Alright, what's going on?"Draco demanded.  
"Whatever do you mean, Master Malfoy?" she said mockingly, examining her fingernails as she spoke as if the entire conversation bored her.  
He frowned darkly.  
"You know exactly what I mean Grang-"  
"Uh uh uh," she scolded.  
"My name is Hermia /Riddle/, Malfoy. Get used to it."  
He threw up his hands in frustration.  
"That is exactly what I mean! How the bloody hell do you expect me to respond to learning that Mudblood Granger is in fact a perfectly respectable, Pureblooded witch, and not only that, but she's the Dark Lord's daughter? I'd be shipped off to Mungo's if I told someone that!"  
She laughed lightly.  
"Then I suppose that's a good thing, since my existence is still very much secret. It's a testament to his faith in you- for what I'll never know- that he trusted you with this secret. Telling anyone would mean the Death of me, you, and anyone you happen to care about, just so you're aware," she said simply, as if discussing the weather.  
How lovely.  
"Anyways, shocking as this must be to you, you'll have to get over it. Father wants you to help me sabotage the Order."  
She stood and went into her bedroom, not bothering to close the door behind her. From where he stood he could see her walking past white furniture and furnishings done in cool colors, blues and greens painted on the walls and purples in the wall hangings and bed. She threw her cloak on the bed, and grabbed something just out of his line of sight, before returning to the couch, inviting him to sit next to her.  
He noticed that underneath the cloak she was wearing a yellow strapless sundress, nicer than anything he had seen her in except for maybe her Yule Ball dress. It looked amazing on her, but also bared her shoulders and back, exposing a winding, dark tattoo of a snake slithering its way from her left arm, across her shoulder blades, and down her right.  
She caught his gaze and smirked.  
"Do you like it? Father and I agreed that the traditional Dark Mark was too mundane. Besides, I may be the Dark Lady someday, and it'd undermine my authority to be marked the same as the underlings," she explained.  
He thought of his own dark mark with some embarrassment, pulling down his sleeve unconsciously.  
This didn't escape her notice though, and she made a mental note to see about getting him a mark like hers at a later date.  
"Enough of that, we have preparations  
to make," she interrupted herself, pulling out a small book that she'd apparently retrieved from her bedroom.  
Murmuring a charm softly, his name engraved itself on the cover, glowing brightly for a moment, before going out.  
She handed it to him.  
"We'll communicate using this. I have a similar one. Just write a journal entry, and it'll appear in mine. Don't use names or recognizable locations, it'll hold up to a classmate, or the average adult wizard, but Dumbledore, he'll be able to retrieve the messages easily. Still, be careful not to let anyone know you have it, and especially not who you're writing to. Understood?"  
He nodded, brow furrowed, and tucked the journal into his cloak.  
It seemed that "Hermia" could be serious about her job, if nothing else.  
"Perfect. Now, we're both Prefects this year, so that will excuse me for "fraternizing with the enemy". You need to work on diffusing this animosity Harry has for you. He's got to at least consider you not to be a threat, even if he doesn't like you," she mused, her dark eyes narrowed in concentration.  
He scoffed.  
"How do you expect me to manage that?"  
She glared up at him.  
"I don't care how you manage it, just do it," she ordered, before handing him a key.

"It's just a duplicate, but it should get you inside..."

"Inside what?"

"Slytherin's personal quarters of course. It houses a library, an unmonitored fireplace, and it sits directly above the Chamber of Secrets. You'll meet me there every week for a call with father.

He'll want updates on our progress."

"What exactly does the Dark Lord want?"

She grinned.

"Right now, all you need to worry about is getting on Chosen One Potter's good side. Think you can do that?" She teased.

He glared.

"Of course I can!"

"Good, because it's time we returned," she said, snapping her fingers and vanishing from his sight.

"What the bloody-" he managed, before a sensation similar to apparition, but kind of... softer, he supposed. He felt less inclined to part with the contents of his stomach.

And then he was in his dorm, in his bed, wondering if any of that had happened at all.

He rubbed his eyes. What sort of convoluted dream was that?

But then he felt it.

The book was in his cloak, and it was quickly heating up enough to burn him through his shirt.

He yanked it out, eyes wide with surprise as he realized it had certainly not been a dream, and opened to the first page.

_Sweet Dreams Malfoy_

_~Hermia_

He blinked, and reread the sentence, once, twice, three times.

Oh. _Merlin._


	3. Chapter 2: Different Kinds of Masks

**Yay! Second Chapter! But for the record, don't be expecting updates this speedy-quick all the time.**

**This one was half written before I even finished the first chapter! So yeah. There might be some delays, I promise I'll try to keep up though!**

**Oh! And be sure to check out the prologue I added. It's short, but it's important! Probably!**

**Chapter 2: Different Kinds of Masks**

"Come along Harry, we'll be late to class if we don't leave now," she urged, tugging his sleeve as she stood. "Alright Mione, let me get my things," he obeyed, smiling sweetly and grabbing his pack.

"Aw, come on mate! You've got a good five minutes before that bloody Potions class," Ron whined, not bothering to seperate himself from his chicken leg when talking.

Hermione scowled.

"Ronald, not everyone has time to waste drowning themselves in gravy. In fact, you're supposed to be in Astronomy right now, and you have even farther to walk than we do," she reminded him, before grabbing Harry's had and dragging hi towards the dungeons

The dungeons were cold and depressing as ever, and seeing Snape standing like some sort of dark sentinel at the door to the Potions lab seemed to make the temperature fall even further.

"Move along Potter, Granger, I haven't all day to wait for you," he drawled, shutting the door behind them.

They were actually a few minutes early, but as this was N.E.W.T Potions, the remainder of the class was exclusively Ravenclaw and Slytherin, and both houses preferred to show up outrageously early."

"Now that our Gryffindors have deigned to grace us with their presence, we may begin," he said, earning cruel but quiet chuckles from the other students.

"Today we will begin brewing Amortentia. I will warn you only once. If you attempt to use this on yourself or anyone else, you will be expelled without question. Turn to page 306 and read the section on Amortentia. When you have finished, turn to 312 and begin.

She had already read these pages, but for safety's sake, Hermione read them again, her eyes scanning the page rapidly."

Amortentia...most potent love potion...approximately three months to brew...potential permanent affects...illegal to use in all but research purposes.

She knew all of this, but the recap was necessary. She stood and went to gather the ingredients, and was surprised to find Draco Malfoy already reaching for his Ashwinder eggs.

She didn't miss Snape's "casual" glance, as if he was already predicting a chance to take points. From her of course.

Scowling slightly she ignored him, gathering her own eggs, as well as rose thorns, and powdered moonstone, and left before he could come up with a way to taunt her. Harry leaned over and whispered.

"Did Malfoy say something? You look irritated."

She smiled wanly and shook her head.

Malfoy was the least of her problems, although she didn't exactly appreciate all the people asking her why he'd taken to staring at her in confusion, instead of bullying her like he ought to.

Instead she focused on her potion, measuring the ingredients meticulously and placing them into the cauldron.

"I'm serious Mione, you looked kind of riled up. Are you sure Malfoy didn't say something to you?"

"I swear Harry, he didn't, he's just a nuisance, okay? Don't worry about it."

The class couldn't have ended soon enough.

Hermione smiled secretly as she practically skipped between the stacks, her steps nearly as light as her mood as her hand slid over the bookshelves familiarly, but also searchingly, as if she were studying every nick and scratch in the wood memorizing the texture. And then, she felt what she was looking for, a small, invisible seam, cut into the shelf, as if it had been sliced through to the other side, but only around the width of one single book. She looked up, and examined the first edition copy of Hogwarts a History, which was steadily gathering dust, obviously not touched in years. And why would it be? There were more recent, accurate, and comprehensive editions. Why would anyone touch the beyond ancient book. Even she, the so-called Queen of the Library would've passed it over for the most recent edition available.

But here it was, the very tome she'd been looking for, though for once, not because she intended to read it.

She pulled it out from its shelf and flipped to the exact middle of the book, where a picture of an ancient oak door appeared.

She grinned when she saw it, lifting her want to tap the image right on the word "Open" engraved into it, and cast "Alohamora."

Then she snapped the book shut abruptly she placed it back on the shelf, and waited.

Not long after, a small, squeaking sound filled the air, and the bookcase slid open, revealing a dark, spiraling staircase, both descending and rising into darkness in both directions.

Shouldering her bag* she stepped onto the platform, and began the harrowing trip upwards, into what she knew to be Rowena Ravenclaw's private library.

The bookcase slid shut behind her.

Hermione only stayed in Rowena's sanctuary for a few minutes, retrieving some of the things she'd left the night before, and adding a few of the more interesting titles to her expansion-charmed bag, before heading back up the stairs.

The Founders' private areas was laid out simply enough, with Rowena's massive library encompassing the whole western halfof the upper levels, with the highest being her rooms, while the other half being split between Godric and Helga, who only needed rooms, except for a private greenhouse Hermione had not managed to get into yet, which made up the roof of the Western tower. The lower levels, were of course, Salazar's laboratory, and another, smaller library as well as his rooms, which by her calculations, were directly above the Chamber of Secrets. It was also where she intended to go now.

The suite was very, very green, and no matter how many times she came here, her amusement with the great Slytherin's apparent obsession with green never stopped. Green marble, green silk, green glass, green brick, /silver/ wall hangings, green ceiling. Even the paintings seemed to be done exclusively in shades of green. It was a bit more green than any person should experience in one lifetime.

But it also had a fireplace, green marble streaked with silver and black, that was left unwarded from students. Hermione doubted Dumbledore had ever been here, let alone one of her classmates, so this was the best place of any to communicate to the outside; specifically, her Father.

The fireplace roared to life, and a dark haired man with green eyes appeared in the flames.

He sighed a longsuffering sigh.

"Where is he?"

"Probably detained by the bat. Apparently he's been acting oddly," she said snidely.

"Wouldn't have guessed myself, he's always been a right idiot when it came to bullying the _little muggleborn girl_. They probably think he's developed a crush, what with the way he's been staring after me the last few weeks.

Do you really think he can handle this?"

Her father smirked.

"Are you doubting me, girl?"

It was her turn to sigh this time.

"No Father. I just hope you'll give me the privilege the punish him if he ruins this for me.

The man called Voldemort smiled in his way.

"You'll have an eternity for that. We have business to attend to," he said, and right on cue, Draco's footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs.

Draco had to do a double take when he saw the person Hermia was talking to. He'd never get used to the idea of /Voldemort/ with a head of black hair. Or a nose for that matter.

A glamour mask, Hermia called it. It was a plain costume mask not unlike the ones regular Death Eaters used, except it was imbued with powerful enchantments that caused the wearer to appear as something else entirely, and couldn't be seen through with magic eyes or faery sight.

Personally, Draco didn't understand why he didn't just go out as a normal man. He wasn't even half ugly. But still terrifying all the same, somehow.

"Glad to see you could join us, Mr. Malfoy. Please, sit. We have much to talk about."


End file.
